Embers (Chapter One)
by leveluprocks
Summary: Delilah Hawthorne has been forgotten, and she has no idea how to fix that, given that she's lost all her memory too. (This is me tying up loose ends as best I can. I think it'll be fun.)
1. Chapter 1

It's the day of attack, and I'm scared out of my mind. I shouldn't be. I should be courageous, but that's not who I am.  
We stare at the long projectors in the town square. The gray buildings add to the feeling of unanimousness hopelessness. Yet still, we watch. We're all still their pawns. Every now and again there is a sigh of relief or a triumphant shout, but it's not us. It's never us. Gale and I remain quiet. Even Posy, Rory, and Vick are silent under the palpable tension. My mother clings to them as though they are a life line; I wonder if they are her saving force or if she is their's. I shift my stares around. I feel as though I'm melting into the concrete. A million self asked questions run laps at through my out of focus brain. _Why are you doing this? What possessed you to speak out? Why Delilah? WHY? _

My eyes are everywhere but the screens. Katniss Everdeen, our female tribute for the past two years makes her way through the arena. She's looking for something. It's pitch dark. It's midnight. We shouldn't be here. I shake my head as if to try and shake away the seemingly terminal feeling of anxiousness that has nested itself within my mind. I shouldn't have said anything at the meeting. I shouldn't be a leader. I want to run. I want to get away. I'm not brave enough.

The air is heavy with heat and pressure. The masses force claustrophobia upon me. I'm shattering under pressure. I have to save all of them. Gale glances at me as if to tell me to focus. I just look back at him in desperation. I can't focus. I've been the apparent leader of some uprising…I'm twelve. How did that happen? I begin to fade back into the meeting that was only two days ago.

_All the adult citizens of District Twelve piled into a large, dusty conference room. I glance around as I slip my way in. Gale's plan or lack there of would destroy us. I know I won't say anything, I won't have to, but in case no one speaks against ...I have my own plan. I sat down in a clunky metal chair and scooted up to the impromptu fold up plastic table. The ground creaked as the young, middle aged, and the extreme lack of elderly entered the office like area. We're all here in town square for the second time in the week. The first was the reaping. The look of despair is prominent on any given person's face. A blonde girl who I recognize as Madge Undersee stands up and clears her throat. The room's inhabitants continue to murmur and clamor to their seats._

_"District Twelve..." She says slightly raising her voice. The whispers continue although I sit silent. I look around. Every person I know is present, even the Everdeens have shown their faces, the first time Katniss went into the arena they rarely left the house. I wouldn't either. _

_But Katniss won, because of hope, she'll probably do it again. _

_"Citizens of district twelve! This is a serious matter!" Instant and immediate silence follows, aside from my stifled laughter. My school class quiets down more quickly._

_The butcher, Rooba's, husband, Scott, sits next to me. I tense at his closeness. His son, Demetri glares at him. Why does he have to sit next to me? I feel his hand creep to my leg as well as all color leaving my face. That's why. _

_ I hate him._

_ Gale steps beside her and motions as if he's shooing her instead of asking her to sit. Madge stands straighter and glowers at him. _

_"We are here to meet about an uprising." Gale says with authority. Is he in charge, or does he just think he is? It's probably the latter given the look Madge shoots at him. _

_"We know that Gale. You said something about a plan," She prompts. She's beginning to become irritated with him. _

_He has to find something to talk and complain about while Katniss is gone._

_"I did! Well. My plan is that well. We don't really plan. Our lack of strategy and raw energy will throw the Capitol off." He says proudly. Noah nods to this. There are a few minutes of silence. We all just looking at each other. We all know news in the other districts of almost complete elimination of their population. They all had the same plan. The Capitol is prepared for this. Something inside me makes me clear my throat in a strangled sort of way. I have to help. _

_"Would you like to say something...?" I nod. I shuffle my hands under my seat to reach for my dad's old leather bag. I sigh. _Imagine he's here. _Instantly, I'm more brave. He would do this. _

_"I'm D-Delilah...Hawthorne," Ignore the hand. Ignore how cold and rough it is. Don't cry. Don't. Cry. "I have a real plan." I take a moment to shakily empty the papers from my dad's old leather satchel. I sigh quietly. "Has anyone else noticed the arena is a clock? I know it's only the first day, but from what I can gather it has zones. I've been watching the twenty -four/ seven live stream. At midnight lightning strikes, I believe if we rose then, we'd have a better time escaping. All the other districts had Gale's un-plan in mind. Population counts have been hovering one hundred there. I think it'd be the best idea to start now. _

_"We could put people into groups and rip down the fence tomorrow morning. Have people with some sort of training. I've contacted Haymitch and Effie and they've agreed to lead the Capitol the wrong way. The longer the gap is between the lightning and their response will allow us to save a much higher number of people. Although there will be an undoubtable high body count, it may be lower than the other districts." I shrug and give the papers to Madge who nods and looks up at me. She begins to read through them and Gale stands up. His jaw is hard, and his eyes are on fire with fury. _

_"But. NO. That makes no sense. Why are you so prepared?" He shoots at me like I've committed some sort of crime. In his eyes I have, I've spoken against him. He hates me and I've spoken against him. _

_"Gale, I take people's lives seriously. I don't go unprepared if I have any intention of presenting an idea on how to help them." I reply, permeating the room with my calm town. He grits his teeth, like I'm screaming at him. _

_"You planned undermining me?" He growls. "So, childish. Leave it to the adults."_

_"You're not grown either." I remind him. "I wasn't planning on saying anything actually. I just...did. If we were a closer district, so that we could actually attack, you're plan would be great. Sadly we're not that rich a district. We have to utilize what we have. We can't make something from nothing." Gale glowers at me, defeated and mimes slitting his throat then points at me when he thinks no one's looking._

_"Delilah. All our future soldiers will be in the meadow tomorrow. Thank you for leading." I begin to shake my head, but the gavel pounds the table before I can make a real argument. _

_After the people begin to file out Gale shoves me against a wall that groans and emits dust in response. He locks me there by crushing my windpipe and vocal chords with his forearm and keeping his knee on my abdomen. _

_"What the hell was that?" He screams in my ear causing it to ring. Noah shrugs and walks away. He bangs my head against the wall. I can't remember the rest of the night. _

_The next morning we tore down the fence and trained ourselves to get each other out. _

A crash snaps me back into reality. There's not much I can do. Is there? No. Or at least there shouldn't be. I find myself trembling. I could collapse right now. Scream. Cry. Burst into flames. Whatever happens when you break.

I look at Noah, he's been staring at me. When I make eye contact with him his eyes soften. He is the one comfort I seek now. It may not even be worth it, but it's the only one there.  
Noah has been with me through the worst and I can trust him. Many mornings and afternoons have been spent with him. Walking the district, hunting when Gale had gone to the mines and Katniss went on the Victor's Tour, or even in times of silence when the four of us were all there and no one but Noah and I knew, that was ours. Many an hour spent reliving the things of nightmares to have him be understanding, comforting even. Well, after he lectured me. He's the only friend I've ever had. Even through all the fights and pain he causes me I stay because I'm not worth someone else's trouble.

I look down and see my reflection on a broken pane of glass. A lean girl with long chestnut brown hair, freckles, flushed cheeks and blue green eyes with flecks of gold stares back at me in disbelief. This may be the last time I see myself. I take some coal dust from my boots and smear it across my face like war paint. If it is I'm dying to save the innocent. I'm dying to heal the beaten and damned. That's a good way to die, even if it's not truly who I am.

You'd think going through foster homes like air would prove otherwise but there's always a reason to move you. They, the 'guardians' touch too much or hit too much, once it becomes notable enough for the peacekeepers not to turn a cheek, you already want them to just kill you. Instead they find another family willing to take care of you, well lie about taking care of you at least.

My biological family disowned my father and myself when I was just born. I know it kills my mother sometimes. Her marriage to his brother hit the rocks for a while around the time Gale was eight, he left and his brother, my father, came along. Gales father came back and I was just some kid. She had Rory, Vick, and Posy soon after.  
Noah still stuck. His dark brown eyes remain on me and I manage a smile. He shakes his head, not buying what he knows is unreal, his perpetually unkept wavy black hair moving with him. He runs his fingers through his hair that always seems to hide his face to reveal long eyelashes and freckles that I've noted from the hours past of watching his face as he spoke. He comforts me when I need him and listens when I speak. He doesn't tell, even though I know he feels like he should sometimes.  
I suddenly find myself parting the crowd to get to him. He's looking up at something in awe and the sky goes black. The last light we see is a flash of lightning. The ground shakes beneath us and screams complement the chills running through my spine. I grab his arm almost causing him to trip but it gets his attention long enough for me to point at the running mob. He looks at me in disbelief and shakes his head.  
"I'm not leaving you." I want to push him away and tell him to go. I want to scream at him. Instead I just ignore him and run towards something the Capitol made. Just them. It hits me. I stare into the untouched Victors' Village and let my feet carry me. I laugh and pull the matches out of my pocket. I'll start with Haymitch's house. It's most flammable and will help me with the others. I throw the first match and the fire is instantaneous. It catches every other house in its wake. I run in the opposite direction and destroy as much as I can in my path, which is a surprising amount.

Orders stream from my lips as unscathed people run out. Some still hide in their houses. I hear crashes and creaks. The sky is falling. I am going to die. I become more calm then I have been in three days. I see family upon family escape through the lack that once blocked wilderness for safety but now is open air for the same reason. Houses left in ashes. I see many a person grab items in the last minute in an attempt to clutch to the past. I can't do that. I throw a match at my father's old house. Our old house.

I feel a familiar tap on my shoulder. He's been following me? I turn on my heel.

"You have exactly one minute to explain why in hell you're here." I yelled at him, venom dripping from my voice.  
"Because I won't leave you. Ever. C'mon Hawthorne. You should know better." I continued to glare at him. He has left me before. He can do it again. Why can't he see it's important for him to go? He has a family. If he thinks he's safer with me he's dead wrong. To me, this is a suicide mission.

"Delilah. Look. I'm staying with you. Get that through your head or I'll just have to go stealth again. Now let's go." I stand my ground arms crossed only moving to point at the still moving mob. He rolls his eyes and picks me up and starts walking towards the 's surprisingly strong for a fifteen year old boy from the seam. Never have I hated being light more. Darn Noah and his good intentions! His family is in that crowd! I jump out of his arms and run full speed towards the mob, determined to find his family and get lost. He needs to be safe. I don't have much to live for anyway.  
He follows without question. I find his family quickly. I look for an open direction to run and where I can blend. He grabs my arm.  
" with me. Please." He whispers directly into my ear. The sound of his voice is desperate. I have to stay. Somehow the thought of having someone to be tied to is reassuring. I find his hand and squeeze it and nod. He nods and pulls me towards the meadow.

Suddenly there's rings of light among the dark sky. There's a crumpling thunderous noise that feels like an earth quake is happening from the heavens. The sky looks like its about to fall down. Then before I know it, the district is coated in flames and my feet aren't on the ground.  
We collapse to the ground and a deafening crash assaults our ears. The ground shakes and suddenly someone's holding me down…or just on top of me. My hands fly to my ringing just before a second blast and more screams fill the silence. It's silent for a moment and the ground stops shaking if only for a second.  
I try to stand up but stumble. I laugh. I'm so clumsy! I don't hit the ground. What caught me? Am I dead? Blackness and blur fills my vision. I feel warmth trickle down my forehead and it almost makes me smile. Distant voices call my name. I feel like I'm moving and trees are rushing before me. The air causes my hair to whip around on my face. I throw my arms out and squeal. Am I running? I don't feel like I'm running. I look down to see arms and ground under me. I'm flying! No one can catch me! A wave of sheer joy washes over me. Something red drips in my eyes and I squeal again. I like that color. Some talk about some one hitting their head. I hope they're okay. Blackness hits and I wish them good luck.


	2. Chapter 2

The black slowly moves into a spectrum of colors, shapes, and silhouettes. My mind gently ebbs and flows into what I almost believe is a dream, no this is much too vivid. This is a memory.

I see her there. A halo of dark brown frizz hovers around her head, her blue green eyes are wet and glistening with tears which makes the gold in them vibrant, the freckles scampering across her nose are muted by her almost exaggerated blush. She wipes the tears from her face and her jaw hardens. She closes her big eyes a second, her long eyelashes reaching across her well crafted cheek bones. She swallows. Hard. I can feel her fear course through my veins.

She's short and small, scrawny. She's too thin. Her face is hollow. She looks too old to be so young. She's too small for the large leather chair she climbs into. She has no nails. Her fingers have dried blood on them. It's become apparent she hasn't been clean in a while. She has no water. Her hands shake, all of her shakes. She's trembling. She hugs her knees to herself and rocks herself gently. She looks so weak but it's the strongest I've ever seen someone in this situation. Especially at her age. She's only three.

_I am her._

There's something so innocent about her...me. She seems so hopeful and naive despite...despite the situation. I remember why I was here. The government is trying to replace my parents. I almost want to scream. Some one should be taking care of her. She needs some one to _want_ to take care of her. The only person who has ever cared about her has just died. _She needs to be held. __**She is only three. She is so, so small. **_

Her breath shakes at first as she comforts herself but she coaxes them into evenness. She sits stiffly in the humongous chair. The rest of the room seems to grow stuffier with her tenseness. The wooden floor creaks and groans in exhaust as she shifts a little to look around. The chipping paint on the dull gray walls was in desperate need of repair, so is the cracked ceiling. A tall lanky blond man walks in. He has a thinning blond hair, and a large stomach, he wears black suspenders and a light blue dress shirt with three buttons missing, gray slacks and black shoes that must be older than time itself. He looks jolly and nice.

His daughter has just gone into school.

"Hello Delilah, I'm Mayor Undersee." He puts out his hand, which she firmly shakes.

"You said my name so you must know it. Nice to meet you, Mr. Mayor Undersee." Chirps the little girl. He smiles warmly.

"My pleasure. You must be a smart little girl. We brought you here today to see if we could find you new parents. I know it's hard not having a mommy and daddy, I can't imagine how hard. I'm truly sorry. After all, you're only three. It's a problem we have to fix. It's a good thing we already have one family who wants you." He beamed. Mayor Undersee really did care about his citizens and had a soft spot for children. I remember seeing him crying a little before he had to tell me my father wasn't coming home.

As if on cue a short, stalky woman walks through the door, an anxious smile in her company. Her blue eyes shined with happiness, but with a sort of hesitance, but her step still bounced throwing her brown hair that ran down her back into a gentle V softly to and fro. She brandishes a ruffled pink blouse and a smooth tan skirt, she's in heels. It makes me feel special. She dressed up for me. Behind her a little boy runs in. He bounces, exuberant with joy and energy. Tears prick his green eyes. He's been waiting for runs a frantic hand through his hopping hair. The little girl slides out of her chair and turns towards him. He throws his arms around her and jumps up and down. Her eyes widen. Soon, she relaxes and her shoulders slide down, no longer tense. I remember the feeling. The comfort and warmth of it all. The security. He was the last person who truly provided that to me. To her. _She needs to be held. He knew._

He lets his arms drop and just stares at her.

"We're going to be best friends! You're going to live with me and my mommy and daddy! I'm Demetri! What's your name?" His teeming sunniness made her smile, he smiled back and pulled her closer to him.

"My name's Delilah. I'm happy we're friends, Demetri." She says smiling up at him. Even at five he's long and lanky, but not too thin. His light brown hair compliments his piercing emerald eyes, when I look hard at them I can see lines of blue and purple. His freckles are very light and scattered. I remember one time he told me I was the only one who had ever noticed them, I see a few on his strong jaw and his hooked nose. He looks down at her and his hair falls messily over his face, she giggles.

"You sound smart! How do you fit such a big brain in your head? You're so small!" He ruffles the little girls hair, making even more frizz float around her. It looks like she's underwater. As her hair floats down in back in place for a moment she looks like an angel. Demetri seems to notice this. For a moment he looks like he's in a strange state of awe.

Suddenly a large brute looking man stomps through the door. She wrinkles her nose at his stench. He smells like a brewery. He's wearing a ripped black t-shirt which is half tucked half untucked, which really brings a pop to his huge gut. Below his stomach hung worn jeans and scuffed rubber boots. His skin almost looks gray. His celery colored eyes look down upon her, one lagging just a little behind the other, he grins, or is he just bearing his crooked teeth?

"H-hello little girl. I'm gonna be your new daddy." He slurs. She flinches from his extended hand and clings to Demetri, who clutches her tighter, glaring a little at his father.

"Oh. Well. Nice to meet you." She conjures a smile and forces her hand to meet his. Instead of shaking it he pulls her into a rough 'hug' if you could call it that. Demetri glares more intently, takes her other hand and looks up at his mom.

"Mommy can we go play outside while you sign papers with the mayor?" He asked with impeccable puppy eyes. She smiled and nodded.

"Don't talk to strangers or play in the road honey. Be safe. Keep her safe. I love you."

"Love you too, mommy. Thanks! I'll keep us safe," He said bravely "I promise." She smiled wider and kissed his forehead and patted her shoulder. He smiled back.

She opened the door for them as he rushed her out. They ran and ran around the vast plain near the City Circle. Suddenly he stopped.

"Don't spend too much time with my daddy. He hits people when he gets mad and you've been through enough. You need to be taken care of, even though you probably can on your own, but...you need someone else. I think that's why you got me. Our family I mean." He looked at her seriously. He had already been robbed of his child hood by his father. He didn't want the same to happen to her.

Too late.

"I won't, Demetri."

"Promise me." She looked at him a second.

"What?"

"Promise me you won't let him hurt you." He had a look of strange desperation.

"I can't do that." She replies simply.

"I wish you could." He said looking down at the ground. "If it weren't for me you could." She looked up a second, then moved her hand to his shoulder and lifted his head with her finger tip. She got eye level with him and took a deep breath.

"What your father does to you is wrong. I'm sorry. You don't deserve that. No one does. Don't think it's your fault. It's his. Only his. You can't control what happens to other people or what they do. I learned that the hard way. Please, please believe me and learn the easy way." He begins to nod furiously, tears pooling in his eyes. She continues. "You matter. I can promise that. You're a good person, even though you're not grown up. I can promise that too. You'll probably only get better as you grow up if you learn from your mistakes. From his mistakes. Promise me you will." He nods again, crying, wrapping her arms around her.

"I promise." He says softly.

They stand like that for a while. Relying on each other for support. He cries a while, but not in a childish way. He seems more composed and relieved.

"Now. I think you said we were going to play. So that is what we will do." She says with some matter of fact sort of joking authority. They both laugh and begin to play games like tag ,hide and seek, and pretend. They play all the games that either of them know and end up watching the clouds, pointing and laughing.

"Delilah?" He says looking over at the girl beside him.

"Yes Demi?" He smiles at his new nickname and she looks back at him.

"Thank you for coming to live with us." He smiles.

"It was your family's choice but it's no problem." He slowly nods to this but then looks thoughtful.

"You could have run." He offers.

"Well. I couldn't do much of that with your arms around me." She laughs. He blushes and pulls her in. "What are you doing?" She giggles.

"Protecting you." He replies frankly. Her face floods with blush, she closes her eyes , a sigh escaping her lips that curl into a smile.

"Thanks" She whispers and slips out of his arms. He looks hurt."We should get back to the Justice Building." He nods in bitter understanding, she offers her hand and he nods again, this time smiling. But he doesn't take it.  
"Race me?" Before the second word flowed through his mouth, she was nearly halfway there. She may have had shorter legs but she is spry. Still, her legs are shorter. The boy waited for her at the steps.

"Are we stopping here?" She asked in confusion.

"No. I was being unfair. Go on ahead, Delilah. I'll see you at the top." She looked at him skeptically and he began to cheer for her. She ran up the steps, he remained two "Thanks!" She said gratefully. He caught up to her taking her hand.

"No problem. I'm supposed to be taking care of you, remember?"

"I do." She replied as they marched back to the lobby. They sat down on a red couch with foam and springs appearing from rips in the fabric. They could hear creaking in the scuff tiled floors and popcorn ceilings. Demetri stared about at the cream colored walls as she counted the dim light fixtures.

A moment later Demetri's parents marched from the office that was down the hall.

"Are they letting us keep her?'' Demetri immediately asked.

"Yes, they are." His mother beamed. The little boy cheered and hugged his mother. The girl smiled. She liked her new family. They walked out of the door in unison. Maybe this is what real families look like. She began to look deep in thought.

"Delilah, what's your favorite color?" Demetri said suddenly. Her face contorted in surprise then composed itself. Maybe we were thinking of the same thing.

"At midnight, the sky is a deep blue. That's my favorite color." She says hesitantly, then nods. He looks thoughtful, then knits his eyebrows together.

"Why were you up that late?" She looks stunned.

"I-" She begins and he interrupts.

"Are you up late often?" As she ways this Demetri's mother shoots him a warning look and he shrugs.

"Yes. I am. I don't sleep well." I still don't. But not for the same reasons. He frowns a little. Why does he care?

"Hm. What's your favorite game?"

"I like to play house sometimes. I don't really know." His frown shifts into a wide grin and he nods.

"I like house too. We'll play house sometime." She laughs and nods back. "What food do you like?" Her eyes narrow a little and she looks up at the sky. She fidgets a little, crossing her arms, uncrossing them, tangling her hands behind her back.

"I don't eat much either, you don't get picky when you don't eat much." His eyes widen in surprise. He may be poor, but he's poor for a merchant kid.

They begin to make their way through the merchant part of district twelve. Her face begins to shift in awe. She has never been here before. Although the little village area is in district twelve, it's pristine compared to the seam. The clockwork is amazing. You could sit and watch, the only thing that truly changed here was age, products, and the weather.

They pass the baker's, the tailor's, and the jeweler' they go past the windows of the blacksmith's she stares a moment as a little boy bursts out of the door. Her mouth breaks into a smile.

"Delilah!" The boy shouts. His brown eyes are skeptical, he smooths down his black hair confused. She turns toward him and he nods in recognition then his mouth forms into a grin. She looks at him at expectantly. He throws the block he had in his hand at her. It hits her on the forehead making a loud thump noise. Blood pools in the cut on her forehead. Her hand flies there and her jaw hardens, she's fighting tears and reaction. For a moment everyone else just stares at the now bloody block that landed on the ground. "What are you doing with them, poop face?" He said his grin wavering. He looks startled when she picks the block up and throws it back, pegging him in the chest. He sets it on the ground, nodding in approval.

"None of your business." She replies confidently, wiping the blood off her forehead and flicking it onto the pavement.

"Is too!" He smiles again. Her face remains serious, her jaw set and her eyes hard. They walk towards each other, their steps in perfect sync, soon there is only a foot between them. They look the other up and down. The young boy towers over her, as he looks down his grin twists into some wicked grimace. "Shorty." he sneers. She refuses to react. Her face becomes void of expression, but his does not. His face turns red with frustration, she begins to smirk. "I'm taller than you!" He says proudly.

"You're the one who's tall for their age. I'm normal." He rolls his eyes and glares at her.

"Stop trying to sound smart. You're not. So stop." She just raised her eyebrows.

"I help you with your homework, Noah." She reminds him, Noah's jaw hardens.

"Are they your new family? You know, since your father died and no one wants you." The little girl's face contorts into an expression of hurt surprise, her eyes narrow into a squint pressing the tears from them. Noah looks surprised. "That was mean. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." He trails off.

"Yeah. You shouldn't have and that _was_ mean. She wouldn't say that to you, you know." Demetri stated. "If you're her friend and you care about her then you should really try acting like it. She's really nice if you let her be, and I don't think making her cry should be the best way to talk to her. She's a person, she has feelings."

"Who is this? Is he your brother or your boyfriend or what?" Noah asked.

"Not my brother by blood, but legally, I guess so. We're just friends." She shrugged.

"Oh, well. He's pretty smart. I guess I shouldn't have said that to you. I'm sorry, Delilah. " He said as he wiped the tears from her face, smiling warmly. Demetri groans.

"What's wrong with you? You think you can just...Ugh. Get away from my friend please, before you make her cry again." Noah looked at them both and laughed a little. The girl looks surprised at him.

"Nothing's wrong with me. Just moving past it. How old are you?" Demetri narrowed his eyes at him, took her hand and walked back to his parents who were happily talking. Noah shrugged and walked back inside.

"Are you okay?" Rooba asked leaning down toward her. With careful hands she moves the hair from the little girl's face, taking a tissue from her back and wiping the blood and tears off. "There. When we get home we'll get you a shower, some food, and a nap. Sound good?" She nodded, smiling.

They were soon at the butcher's building. Scott took a key from his shirt pocket and fumbled to unlock the door. He opened it to reveal the little shop on the inside, with warm beige walls that emphasized the sun that poured itself upon the glass. In the corners where the walls met where bricks that crashed against one another, the same idea was reflected around the windows. The market room seemed age old, but not stale like the rest of district twelve often times was. It had passion in it.

"I decorated the office." Rooba stated proudly. Maybe she had a creative eye, I mused to myself. The girl smiled up at her as she opened a narrow door to reveal a cold stone staircase. They marched up, Demetri last, into an open apartment like place the stairs led to. She looked around. The home reflected the same warmness as the office, but with less presentation. The living area flowed into the kitchen and bedroom areas. Not a sound would be lost in the thin walls of the little home.

The walls carried a plethora of ripped memories, such as a smiling, younger looking Rooba holding her newborn boy. The black and white Polaroids bright baby blue which made the ancient earthy green couch look vintage rather than worn, and the tea stained looking lamp shades that topped the scuffed brass lamps carried the theme. The rest of the house matched the living area. Using pictures to cloth the bare walls and brightness to make the desperate look hopeful.

"Your room is the one all the way down the hall, next to the bathroom. Let's pick out some clothes then I'll run your water and-"

"No need. I can do both. Where are the clothes?" Rooba's mouth hangs open in shock a moment. The girl smiles at her surprise.

"Uh... In the drawers in your room. They might be a little big but... Are you sure you don't need help?" She nodded, breaking into a grin. "Then...I'll go make lunch."

She marched into her room, furnished by a small creaky chest of drawers and soft twin bed. There were no pictures or windows in the gray room. Only furniture and walls. She picks out the smallest clothes she can find that are still baggy on her then takes a bath and changes into them.

No longer caked in blood, dirt, and grease, the little girl struts down the hallway proudly.

"Well don't you clean up nice?" Rooba grins as she nodded.

They sat on wooden stools around a cracked round table that dominated the kitchen, talking. She looked in awe at how orchestrated it seems, the house flowed harmoniously. Demetri makes his father's plate, then his own, then her's, and his mother's while Scott puts up the dishes and cleaned the kitchen and Rooba sets the table. The girl looks out of place, a glitched still point in a moving picture. Demetri smiled at her.

"How about you set the plates on the table and we can sit and talk until dad's done?"

She did this with out a word, setting the plates in front of the stools she had seen them sitting at, Demetri sat and pats the stool next to his, which she sits in.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" He asks casually. She shrugs. "Uh. Well. My mom is a good cook. You'll like the food. I promise." Rooba and Scott meet their seats and begin to eat in silence, Demetri follows immediately but the girl is hesitant. The meal is filled with empty silence, it's not until they're cleaning again that they make quiet small talk. Smiles are exchanged. This is family.

The rest of the two weeks following are like that, but less vivid. Small talk in passing time, and silence in other moments. The silence becomes comfortable rather than empty soon. It all does. It becomes predictable and stable.

The days always started merrily at eight thirty, when Rooba would wake the two children and feed them lovingly made breakfast, while Scott opened up the butcher's shop. Demetri and the girl would talk, play, and enjoy the other's company, never greeting boredom. Rooba would check on them in spare moments and when they needed to be fed or put to bed. They would close the shop at five and be eating by six, then they would sit and talk in the living area until seven thirty when the children where put to bed. The day always flowed this way, with every one, including her, having a place. She finally had a place. She was finally wanted, loved even. She began to understand the silence and be a part of the unspoken conversations. She belonged.

Sixteen days later, schedule got off course, and the memories became vivid again.

Scott wasn't present at dinner, and they ended up eating sans his company. His plate sat on the stove, cold. After we ate, we sat in the parlor in dead, stale, silence. We could all hear the shop door violently slam open and closed. Even so when he entered the house they all flinch at the sudden noise. Their noses wrinkle at the smell he carries in with him. His eyes immediately find his cold plate.

"You ate with out me?" He sneers at Rooba. "You promised. WE ARE A FAMILY. HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME OUT? I MADE US A FAMILY." He throws the plate to the ground where it shatters and walks into his room.

Rooba takes Demetri's hand and runs downstairs, calling a cab on the way. The girl tries to keep pace, but can't. She falters and falls down the stairs. When she walks to the door they are already gone.

She turns to see him, looming with a wicked grin on his face. His crooked teeth take up half his face. He looks like a monster. A nightmare. He haunts so many of mine. _She doesn't know. _She just manages a smile in response.

"You're still my family, right, Delilah?" He breathes out approaching her. She wants to leave but sees no way he would hurt her. So she stays.

"Of course I am. You are my foster parent. That's the way it works." She responds frankly. He laughs menacingly and takes her wrist before she can walk upstairs.

It clicks for her.

I try and fight the memory before I have to relive it, it simply becomes more vivid.

_No._

She jolts from his grasp, which only tightens in response. "Are you not mine? I filled out the paperwork for you to be. All it took was paperwork. Now I can do whatever I want with you." She squirms and screams. "Be still. It'll be easier that way." She doesn't oblige, instead she hits, kicks, and screams. He laughs until she hits him in the face and busts his lip. "I told you to be still!" He growled as he hit her, holding her to the floor. She only gains a cuts and bruises from her bravery.

He takes a knife from his back pocket and presses it to her throat. The cold blade stings. She wants to see it. She wants to see her killer."I told you to stay still, and you didn't. Now, if you move, you die." He said calmly. She still jolts, and he cuts her jaw. "See what you make me do?" He takes a hand to her stomach and presses her body to the floor after putting her hands behind her back. He takes a knees and puts it on both of hers making her legs lay flat. "You're a little girl anyhow." He licks his lips. "So little. _You need to be held._" He smirked. He breathes into her ear. She wants to vomit.

He moves the hand that was holding the knife, which he has moved beside her, to pull her face to his. He roughly devours her lips and face. His ice cold, bitter, spare lips burn her like fire. Her stomach churns in distaste as he forces her mouth opens. She screams and sobs. He pulls away to laugh. She lost her first kiss to him. To the monster that haunts her nightmares.

After that all of it's fuzzy, repressed, excepting focused images and sounds. Unforgettable ones.

The tearing sound of her clothes and the lump they lay in on the floor accompanied by his.

The way his rough, cold, hands sounded running against her hair, tearing it out.

The way they felt against her skin.

His justifications.

Their unlevel heartbeats.

His harsh breath.

How dark his eyes became.

How he made her feel like an object.

Good for nothing.

Except what he wanted, of course.

Sickeningly, I can't forget the feeling. He carved it into my mind, _her_ mind, like he carved the first scar I've ever had into my jaw. _Her _jaw.

I am no longer her.

She is me. She always will be.


	3. Chapter 3

They don't find me until it's too late. Until he's outside smoking and I'm sobbing. I'm screaming. I know no one will hear me, or maybe they all did, and still do. Maybe they don't care.

I'm in my room sobbing in a shirt that he made me wear since he ripped my only outfit to shreds. It's his shirt. I want to tear it to pieces. I want to burn it. I want to die of smoke inhalation.

One person hears me scream.

Demetri runs in, not bothering to knock. He sees my purpling, bloody, tear stricken face and wraps his arms around her. I tense at contact. "He hurt you. I told mom he would. I told her. Why are you in his shirt? Why were you screaming?"

I don't answer, I just look at him.

"We have to get you out." He says staring back. We hear plates breaking in the kitchen. I hold him back, we wait for silence.

Hours later, when silence returns we sneak out. We packed a backpack for me. It had leftovers, a blanket, my old clothes, a hairbrush, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and soap in it. Demetri had offered one of his three stuffed animals but I had declined. Every few minutes he would hug me suddenly and sigh, He leaves evidence to lead his father the wrong way.

We remain silent until we're standing at the door, and even then we whisper.

"You know you're way home, right?" I nod. "I'm going to miss my friend. But...Don't come back. I can't let him hurt you. Like you said, no one deserves that."

"I won't." I reassure him.

"Promise me."

"I promise I won't come back here." He nods and gives me one last hug before I leave.

I don't tell him what happened.

I don't tell anyone until the court date we lost. No one would take a child's word over someone who provides food to their families.

My mind shifts to a fuzzy image of me stumbling toward my house. Not my current foster parent's. The woman, Polly, I think her name was, hits too hard for me to not transfer. I rub my bruised jaw, thinking of the drink I spilled.

They sign the papers they need to, I live in a house of skeletons. When I reappear they get to call me a night crawling disease ridden rat and I don't have to go to court. It works in the end.

I watch my feet as I clumsily find my way to my father's old house, which I promptly break into. Just before I can walk in, I hear someone clear their throat and I turn on my heel. Demetri stands in front of, well towers over, me.

"Are you okay? Madge and I yelled at Gale, not that it'll do any good. But that doesn't matter, how do you feel?" He asks, I laugh a little.

"I'm fine. As always. I haven't died yet, so I'm okay." I reply half jokingly leaning against the doorframe.

"Please, Delilah. Don't joke about you dying. It's not funny to me. Really." He said exasperated. "I'm glad you're okay." He sighs and begins to turn away.

"Gotta joke about something. Come in." I say sliding along the doorframe into the house. He looks shocked but follows me inside, shutting the door behind him. "This," I say gesturing to the house. "Is my humble abode."

It was humble in the sense of size, but other than that it was well decorated, considering how much free time I had. It had one bedroom, one bathroom, a small parlor area and a kitchenette with a stove and miniature fridge I squeezed in.

In terms of beauty, it excels. The walls were the midnight blue I'd loved so long, books lined the walls stacking high. The huge arched windows were dressed in lilac curtains with a white over lay I'd cut silhouette of trees out of, and turquoise wooden lining. The cold floors were freckled with soft thinning area rugs, held to the Earth by furniture I found and painted black to match the floor. Where the walls meet one another, the floor and the ceiling I've painted a line of green. Along the pictures I've outlined them in yellow. The fabric furniture is plush and soft, warm. Not oozing with foam or springs.

He smiles. "Where'd you get the money for all of this?" Demetri asked.

"I didn't. You'd be surprised what people leave on the curb."

"That's stealing."

"And going to the woods is poaching." I offer.

He smiles. "As long as you eat and feel at home ,I'll keep the secret." I laugh. "Can I look around?" He asks before approaching the stacks of books.

"I see no point in keeping secrets from you. Make yourself at home. Do you want tea or anything to eat?" He nods. As he begins to walk around, I remember the feeling of the unspoken words in the comfortable silence. I feel like it's here. It can't be. We're just old friends.

_No, he's saved your life and is trying to make sure he doesn't have to again. He's here by circumstance. _I think to myself.

I try and concentrate on making tea, I take the iron kettle and run the cool water into it, while it fills up I light the stove and get out the mugs, setting a teaspoon of fresh herbs in each, along with a spoon. I close the kettles top, dry what droplets it has on it and set it on the stove top. I open some of the windows before I turn on the oven to make toast. I deliberate it a moment, he's used to bakery bread.

I end up putting some jam I made on the toast to hide the taste. I put some of the real milk I have in both of our tea. Three spoons of sugar in his and none in mine.

"You still remember how I make my tea?" He looks at me. I look away. That must seem weird.

"I saw you make tea every morning for sixteen day and you make it in the Hob that way. I'm not crazy." He laughs and shakes his head.

"I know you're not crazy. I'm sorry I was skeptical. I actually think it's really nice. Thank you for making tea and toast." I give him a look and stifle laughter. "It's sweet, Delilah."

"Nothing will ever be as sweet as the way you like your tea paired with the jam I made. Your teeth are probably going to fall out."

We sit on the couch cross legged, facing each other, at first we just stare at each other, observing change and sipping our tea. But after a while we begin to talk and we continue to for hours. It begins to feel like the world has fallen away. I haven't talked to someone this long, ever.

Before I realize it I'm walking him home, we're there even sooner.

"It was really nice talking to you, Delilah. We should do this more often." He smiles and shakes his head at something. "I wanted you to know that I-"

"Demetri!" Rooba called. He immediately ran inside.

I made the walk home alone for the second time, thinking some of the same thoughts.

In my memories I see both of me, sitting on the same old bed, in the same position. The difference between her and I is innocence. But she is me.

This is who I am.

Suddenly I'm awake in a hospital with Noah leaning over me.

This is who I am.


End file.
